


Cosmo's Best BDSM Tips

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 50 Shades of Stupid, Humor, John Watson leads such a hard life, M/M, terrible cosmo sex tips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an effort to spice up his love life with John Watson, Sherlock turns to Cosmo Magazine's Sex Tips. The results are certainly interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cosmo's Best BDSM Tips

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a collaboration with several other authors. Links to all the parts will be at the bottom of this introduction.

**6\. "Use the back of a brush to swat his thighs when he steps out of the shower — wet skin is more sensitive."**

_ Finally. An idea Sherlock could really get behind. It combined several of Sherlock’s great loves – the element of surprise, naked John, and intriguing acts of physical violence. Not that hurting John was his fondest wish, but everyone loves a good, old-fashioned spot of vigorous exercise, don’t they? _

The problem with his particular tip (okay, fine, and with every one preceding it and every one hereafter) is that Sherlock’s limited exposure to sex made it extremely difficult for him to analyze the possible results of implementing it. If Cosmo magazine tells him that hitting John with a brush will lead to sex, he has very little way of gauging the accuracy of this statement.

Granted, Sherlock Holmes is (as previously stated) a very smart man. And perhaps yes, he should be able to figure out that attacking a war veteran suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder with a hairbrush after a very relaxing shower is probably not going to end in orgasms for all. But Sherlock also knew that one time he sassed John so hard, and the army doctor became so furious, that he shagged Sherlock over the arm of the couch in hopes of fucking some of the ornery out of him.

So really, his chances are 50/50. And he likes those odds.

John returned to 221B after an utterly unremarkable day at work (by Sherlock’s standards anyway – any day spent not paying attention to his genius was deemed unremarkable), shucked his coat and jumper, and much to Sherlock’s excitement, went upstairs almost immediately for a long, hot soak. The detective waited a few moments for the water to start, then darted up the stairs. It didn’t occur to him to be nude or even partially so. He stood, tapping his foot impatiently, as John showered, carefully chosen brush (vaguely paddle-shaped, plenty of heft to it) clutched in his long-fingered hand. He vaguely hoped John wasn’t having himself a bit of a wank under the hot spray – it would rather ruin the entire enterprise.

Eventually, Sherlock picked up the distinct metallic creak of the faucets, and moments later the water shut off.

Sherlock crouched low, offensive, brush raised triumphantly aloft.

John, poor, put-upon John, stepped onto the wooly bathmat (the one he’d replaced three times because of chemical spills). Sherlock darted forward, aimed at the damp skin just below the doctor’s arse, and smacked.

It wasn’t a particularly punishing blow. Probably significantly harder than the authors of Cosmo Magazine had intended, but definitely not quite as nasty as having one’s scapula pulverized by a bullet.

So why John felt it necessary to yelp like a pained animal, wheel around and clock Sherlock in the jaw, the detective wouldn’t be able to tell you.

“Sherlock! What the absolute _bloody_ hell did you do that for?!” John put a hand to his quick-beating heart, feeling rather as thought it might jump out of his mouth at any moment. From his little pile of well-punched consulting detective on the floor, Sherlock groaned.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Sherlock gave John a look, the kind of look that said _you know as well as I do that your risk for myocardial infarction is extremely low, **and** you function well under extreme stress. I **would** tell you this in my snottiest voice if you hadn’t just **punched me in the face**_. Instead, he let out a grunt. To his credit, it was a very sassy grunt.

John scrabbled for a towel and wrapped it around his waist, Sherlock eyeing him murderously for every second spent covering his damn nakedness and not helping him up off the floor.

“The magazine-” Sherlock began thickly, rotating his jaw.

“Not the damn magazine _again_.” John groaned, taking a knee to make sure he hadn’t caused any lasting damage. Sherlock soldiered onward.

“The magazine postulated that it would lead to intercourse.”

“Cosmo magazine told you that assaulting me with a hairbrush would lead to – and by the way, stop calling it _intercourse_ – sex?” John extended a hand, which Sherlock took, getting slowly to his feet. His pride and his face were wounded; he needed to nail this explanation.

“Recently showered skin is more sensitive due to increased blood flow. The idea was for it to be a 'kinky' surprise.” The word _kinky _looked so bizarre coming out of Sherlock’s patrician face that John couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.__

__“Bloody well was a surprise. Don’t know about kinky though – can’t you just buy a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, like a normal person ?”_ _

__“Normal’s boring.”_ _

__John, as was so often his way, sighed. “Of course it is. Come on, let’s ice that jaw before it swells.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> [Cosmo's Best BDSM Tips #8 by witteefool](http://archiveofourown.org/works/508566)


End file.
